


love is a bloom, nurtured by my tears(and choked by my sorrow)

by bumbleb_tch



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged up characters, Black Cat Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Lady Noire, Disgraced Heir turned Barista!Adrien, F/M, Kwami Swap, Ladybug Adrien Agreste | Mister Bug, Love-Is-A-Scam!Marinette, Marinette copes by self isolating, Things I wrote instead of working on my WIPS, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Marinette, abuse of commas, coffee shop AU, i forgot to update my tags rip, it's the manic energy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumbleb_tch/pseuds/bumbleb_tch
Summary: Marinette loved her partner, no question.But at some point in six years, she’d stopped feeling it. She’d stopped feeling anything. And she called love a scam enough times that she actually believed it.So every night, patrol or not, Marinette would go to bed by 1:00 a.m., to get enough sleep for the next day.Every day of her life, she’d scheduled down to the minute. An endless routine that she lived for years, carefully designed to make sure that her life was so full of work and responsibilities and alarms, that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t notice how empty it was.--Currently on Hiatus
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 95





	1. Drowning Embers

**Author's Note:**

> That's right, kids. It's the deliciously cliche coffee shop AU. I'm meant to be finishing my soulmate AU (And I WILL post the first part of the finale TOMORROW) but the love of my life requested a "Love-Is-A-Scam" Marinette and I just started sprinting.

Every day at exactly 07:15, which is to say, exactly three snoozes after 07:00, Marinette Dupain-Cheng would haul herself out of bed, greet Tikki, and stumble into the shower. Once clean, she would assemble her armor for the day; each piece hand crafted to fit her perfectly, highlighting both her skill and her figure. And every day, Marinette included a red highlight to her outfit, a belt, her pumps, a silk scarf tied in a bow, or most often, a bright red lipstick-using this as a way to wear her Ladybug courage even without her mask. 

At 08:58, Marinette would walk into her office, a privilege to have as a junior designer at Gabriel Designs. She had never been late once in 4 years. Her day would be a blur of schedules, deadlines, project management, and everything she hated, until her alarm rang at 14:00 on the dot, to remind her to take a break and eat something.

Marinette wasn’t one to believe in paying for something you could make yourself, so she routinely made her own lunch and carried it with her to work. On her break she would hurry up the street to the closest cafe, for her daily guilty pleasure of a small mocha in a medium cup with extra whipped cream. As soon as she had her drink, she would secret herself in a corner table alone to eat and reply to emails, leaving at 14:50 to hurry back to the office for the second half of her day. 

On a bad day, Marinette would spend the hours after her break trapped in meetings with senior designers who had little interest in what the youngest and only female junior designer had to say. If she was lucky then she might spend a meeting or two with Kagami Tsurugi, the company’s head PR rep, who she had become good friends with over the years. 

They had clashed at first, both strong personalities with thick walls built up around themselves, but after Marinette mended a rip in Kagami’s blouse with thirty seconds to spare before the start of the press conference that made her career and got her promoted to her current position- they’d quickly softened to each other and become close. Moving past each other’s aloof awkwardness had occasionally been an uphill battle, both women equally headstrong and intelligent, but Marinette had no doubt that Kagami would stand by her through anything. 

But the best days, those were lost in a flood of sketches, charcoal stained fingertips, scattered needles and endless bolts of fabric, moving to the melody of a sewing machine. On those days, Tikki would rouse her and she would blink up at a window to find the world had moved on without her, sky dark and the hours swallowed by her ambition. But each time, she would emerge on the other side with yet another masterpiece for her mentor; Gabriel was critical and incredibly difficult to please, but Marinette would not be deterred from her dream and continued to surpass his expectations of her. 

People whispered that she was sleeping with him from how quickly she had moved up in the company, but then, they had been whispering that about Nathalie too, for as long as Marinette had worked there. People talk, she'd never let it affect her before, and certainly didn't plan to start now. Her heart wasn’t soft enough to be bruised by things like that anymore.

On days where she did leave work on time, she would head home and work on personal projects for her friends and family. Kagami’s birthday was coming up and she had been working on a flowing silk blouse with dragon embroidery for her friend who sometimes fought alongside her using the Dragon Miraculous. 

And of course, twice a week she transformed into Ladybug for solo patrols, once a week to meet up with her partner, Chat Noir.

In her last year of highschool, Hawkmoth’s reign of terror in Paris had begun and Marinette’s life had changed forever.

The day Hawkmoth first attacked was also the day she became Ladybug. She was just starting the last couple months of class before she would be headed to ESMOD to pursue her dreams in the fashion industry. High school had been rough on Marinette, as it was for many young people, and she’d had more than one heartbreak over the years.

Back then, her heart was soft beneath her fiery and determined demeanor, and it had been bruised too many times for comfort. She’d spent a number of nights nursing herself back to a facade of normalcy, building thicker walls each time they were knocked down. She thought things would be easier once she left high school and could start new, avoiding getting involved with anyone.

Whether it was good luck or bad is hard to say, but when she accepted the responsibility of the Ladybug Miraculous, she knew it came with a partner-she just didn’t understand what that meant until she laid eyes on him.

\-----

_6 years earlier..._

Ladybug swung from building to building, shrieking with glee as she perched on a rooftop, looking out across the city. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt and she realized she’d been grinning like a child for who knows how long, probably since she first zipped through the sky. She swiveled her head to survey the city, looking for any sign of the creature she was meant to defeat.

The hairs on her neck stood up and her body tensed, jerking to look behind her just in time to be bowled over by a large black mass. She tumbled to the ground, the mass-man, maybe- managing to grasp her and twist them so that he took the brunt of the fall. They skidded to a stop, Ladybug draped atop this stranger, pressed close to his chest protectively, nearly sharing a breath as she stared into impossible eyes that glowed an unearthly shade of green surrounded by the black void of his mask. His chest began to rumble with a husky laugh underneath her and she shrieked, jumping away as her cheeks burned.

She took in her new partner, as he bounded up, tracing along his built, leather clad frame, until she found herself craning her head back to look up at him. Matching leather ears were buried in artfully mussed blond hair, that if pressed, she might describe as sex hair with how it begged her to run her fingers through it. A shiver traced down her spine as she watched what could only be called a sinful smile spread across his face, showing off teeth that were just a little too sharp to be considered perfect. His eyes gleamed and for a moment she felt like she was six years old and caught with her hand in the cookie jar. 

But then he opened his mouth and _purred._

If his smile was sinful, his voice was positively immoral, smoother than the softest silk Ladybug had ever worked under her fingers, but rumbling like the engine of a well tuned motorcycle. "Sorry to _drop in_ on you like that. I generally prefer to sweep stunning women off their feet, rather than knock them to the ground."

He polished the completely infuriating line with a devilish wink, and if Ladybug thought she was flushed before, her face gave the phrase "cheeks aflame" a whole new meaning. For a moment it almost seemed like she could smell smoke. She immediately snapped on the defensive, crossing her arms over her chest. "At least have the courtesy to introduce yourself before acting like a prowling tomcat!"

Never missing a beat, he swept into a dramatic low bow, "Of course, Mi'lady, forgive me for forgetting my manners." He snatched away one of her hands to brush his lips across her knuckles, lighter than a butterfly's wing across her cheek, but burning like a brand that she would feel for days. "Chat Noir, your ever loyal servant."

"Partner." She snapped to correct, twisting her hand in his grasp to shake it firmly. "Ladybug." Inwardly she was berating herself for apparently not being able to speak more than one word consecutively, and simultaneously wishing she could melt into a puddle where she stood because who responds to being kissed on the knuckles like a goddamn princess by _shaking their hand._

But Chat was grinning up at her like she'd somehow managed to give him the greatest gift he'd ever received and her knees wobbled just a little. Ladybug began rattling off curses in her mind, listing the things she was not going to do with her brand new and truly devastatingly attractive partner. 

Unaffected by her internal battle, Chat sprang upright and tucked her into a side hug, arm wrapped around her shoulder. "What do you say we take care of business, _partner?"_ His voice, filled with glee that softened to a husky teasing, wrapped around her in a different kind of embrace. "After all, there's plenty of time later to get to know each other better."

Ladybug sputtered furiously, heart pounding, even as she let him tug her into action, leaping across the city in sync.

\-----

When Marinette met Chat she knew by the end of that battle that he was the only man she’d ever trust. Despite knowing each other for all of half an hour, he had sacrificed himself to protect her more than once, taking hits meant for her without a second thought. When the dust settled, she asked him why and his eyes met hers, naked and vulnerable in a way that made her feel as though she were seeing into his soul. 

"Because we're partners. I'll always have your back, Bugaboo." His voice was too light, too laced with teasing, to match the broken and lonely eyes that were tearing a hole in her heart.

She took a step. 

And another. 

And another. 

Until she was throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him close, because this perfect stranger was promising her his _life_ without a single hesitation. She had buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was once again shading her entire face and mumbled, "Of course. Partners." 

She leaned back to look up at him, his face soft with bewilderment, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but a bit flushed, "I will always have your back." Her brow furrowed with irritation and she jabbed her finger into his chest repeatedly, "but don't call me Bugaboo!"

And his laughter was like sunshine on her skin in the spring, a warm and welcome embrace, whispering a prophecy of what might follow.

So Marinette had gone home that night and cried for two days, moping around her house with a shadow hovering over her head, much to the chagrin of her parents, who she refused to speak to about what was troubling her, despite their best efforts. She allowed herself those days to wallow in her own misfortune and break her own heart before she did something stupid. 

There were a thousand and one reasons why she could not get involved with her partner: they couldn’t reveal their identities indefinitely, a relationship could endanger them both, and Marinette had the worst track record with relationships out of all her friends anyway. She owed it to her new partner to have his back and catching feelings about his panty-dropping smile was not going to help her do it. So she started building walls around her heart, icy layer upon layer smothering the flame she'd just begun to stoke until it was a dying ember. In a manner of days, Marinette went from the girl who believed in true love and always encouraged her friends to be honest in their feelings, to someone emotionally distant and cynical.

It took some time, but eventually she managed to build enough walls that Chat didn’t affect her anymore. He was her best friend, and she would stand by him through anything, but it was much easier now that she could look him in the eye and snap back witty retorts to his terrible pick up lines, rather than blush like a fifteen year old virgin from a Jane Austen novel. 

Marinette loved her partner, no question. 

But at some point in six years, she’d stopped feeling it. She’d stopped feeling anything. And she called love a scam enough times that she actually believed it. 

So every night, patrol or not, Marinette would go to bed by 01:00, to get enough sleep for the next day.

Every day of her life, she’d scheduled down to the minute. An endless routine that she lived for years, carefully designed to make sure that her life was so full of work and responsibilities and alarms, that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t notice how empty it was. 

\----

  
  


The next day, at exactly 14:13, Marinette stepped up to the counter at the cafe, closing her eyes and breathing in the thick aroma that hung in the air, relaxing the tension in her body while she waited for the barista. 

“Hey, sorry to make you wait, what can I get started for you?” His voice was cheerful and charismatic in a way that felt too familiar. Her eyes popped open and scanned the man in front of her, who she assumed must be somewhat new, since she'd never seen him before.

He was tall, blond hair perfectly styled, and eyes that were a shade of green that pricked her heart and made her stomach twist painfully.

Marinette glanced at his nametag.

 _Adrien._

She clenched her jaw and pasted on a smile, forcing any thoughts or comparisons between this barista and her partner from her mind as she placed her order and shuffled to wait at the end of the bar. Adrien had moved to the bar along with her and begun making her drink. He glanced up and met her eyes, a broad and friendly smile stretching across his face. 

He waved cheerfully, glancing her up and down in a way that somehow managed to feel innocent, before blurting earnestly, “Who designed your clothes?”

Somehow he reminded her of a golden retriever.

She glanced down at the Ladybug-red pantsuit she’d made a few months ago to boost her confidence for an important meeting, the lines perfectly tailored to her form and showcasing her skills and professionalism at the same time. Marinette met Adrien’s eyes again. “Oh-Actually, I did.”

His eyes sparkled as he traced up her form again and she really ruminated on the fact that she’d let him essentially check her out twice with no complaint, but decided to let it slide since he was clearly only interested in her clothes. 

“Shit, really? You’re incredibly talented, I-” He paused, a sheepish look spreading across his face as he ducked his head to finish her drink, “I used to be a model for awhile and I spent a lot of time looking at designer clothes. I’m no expert but, you look stunning.” This was stated factually, as if he were commenting on the state of the weather. Those hypnotic green eyes stared up at her through long bangs, tugging her in against her will, and Marinette found it hard to not feel flattered at his awkward but sincere compliment.

She snorted as quietly as she could because _of course,_ he was a model, look at him for god’s sake. But her lips curved into a polite smile because he’d been nothing but friendly and she never made a point to be cruel, “Who did you model for?”

His face went blank before her eyes, the life draining from it and leaving her with a pit in her stomach. “Uh, _Gabriel,_ just up the street, in fact.” The words were carefully measured and the laugh that followed rang too hollow for her to trust it.

“I’m a junior designer there,” Marinette blurted before she could stop herself, wondering why she was sharing details about herself with this barista she’s known for exactly 4 minutes. She wasn’t exactly spilling her life story, but in the four years she’d been coming to this cafe, she’d never talked to a barista past the normal pleasantries. “Why’d you quit?” 

She regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth, inwardly screaming about how inappropriate of a question that was to ask a perfect stranger, but he just quirked his lips in a half smile and passed her drink across the counter, “Just wasn’t my passion, I guess.”

Marinette huffed softly, almost a laugh, and gestured at the coffee shop, “And this is?” She flushed and slapped a hand over her mouth, ready to bite her own tongue off, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

But Adrien’s face was just bemused, perhaps holding back a laugh of his own at her sputtering. “Well, this pisses off my dad more- so that’s a win in my book.” His laugh was a little sharp around the edges, but filled with genuine mirth that quieted her embarrassment. 

A new customer stepped up to the register. Adrien aimed another smile at her as he backed down the bar towards them. “It was nice talking with you though, see you around?”

She nodded vacantly, frozen in place as the smile grew until it was beaming, warming something inside her that had been frozen for too long, and he spun around to greet the customer. The warm shattered and she scowled down at her cup, darting from the coffee shop and back up the street to hole up in her office for the rest of her lunch.

It wasn’t until she set her coffee on her desk that Marinette noticed her name, scrawled in a graceful cursive across the side of the cup and the ‘i’ dotted with a heart. Her scowl reappeared, and she cursed under her breath about stupid models who were too friendly, not to mention too attractive to be trusted. 


	2. Imbalanced Scales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami sighed, her expression transforming from exasperated to devious in seconds. “Besides, if anyone has spit in their coffee it’s you- for ditching that barista of yours yesterday.”
> 
> Marinette wondered if she would ever know peace again at this rate; maybe she’d start investing in heavy duty foundation to smother the near constant blush painting her cheeks. “How do you even know about that?”
> 
> “I have my ways.” Kagami’s voice was smug and her expression sly as a fox five steps ahead of a hunting dog when Marinette’s head jerked back to glare at her. “So where were you?” 
> 
> (Certainly not bleeding all over Chat Noir’s too tight, leather catsuit.)
> 
> “I just...decided I needed a walk.” It was a lame excuse and she knew they both knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge shoutout and thank you to my beta Papillon10, without whom none of this would be nearly as efficient or polished. 
> 
> I have added a new tag that I neglected originally, so I'm mentioning it. Marinette is an unreliable narrator, sometimes intentionally, and sometimes unintentionally. This story is her /perception/ of what is happening and she's not always seeing clearly.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this chapter :D

Adrien- whose last name she didn’t even know since he was literally just the very nice, very _handsome_ , barista at her usual coffee shop- was quickly becoming the bane of her very existence. 

“Hey there, Marinette!” He drawled, in that smooth, nearly melodic way of his, that- if turned on any girl but her- would be sure to melt their panties to the floor. She told herself she was above that, and ignored the fluttering in her gut, however brief it may have been. 

It started with calling out to her by name every time she entered the cafe, which was, of course, at the exact same time every day. He’d never commented on it, but she hadn’t been able to walk in the door without immediately meeting his too green- too familiar in the wrong kind of way- eyes, as if just maybe he had been waiting for her. It wasn’t exactly flirting, the dynamic between them, but it was definitely too friendly for two people who’d met less than a month ago and interacted solely within that coffee shop.

“Hello Adrien,” she replied in a muted tone, unable to find it within herself to spurn him, despite her anxieties.

His eyes always lit up with some sort of glee when she acknowledged him, even if it was nothing more than a simple greeting. It made her wonder how many people in his life took the time to notice him. 

Adrien looked up at her from beneath his lashes and held a finger to his chin in a rather dramatized- but unfortunately quite adorable thinking pose- “Let me guess, a small mocha in a medium cup with extra whip.”

“You must be psychic,” was her slow and sardonic reply. Marinette kept her features carefully schooled into an impassive mask. At the very least, she never had to let him know that she secretly found him endearing.

The idea was terrifying. So she chose to pointedly never acknowledge it. 

He waggled his eyebrows in a way that was probably meant to be suggestive. “You never know, Princess.”

Ugh. The nicknames. Yet another thing about Adrien that reminded her of Chat in an almost painful fashion. 

(Maybe she had a type.)

Marinette rolled her eyes and paid, moving to the end of the bar in time with Adrien on the opposite side. He was shockingly difficult to deter. As of yet, no amount of eye rolling or lack of response seemed to affect him in the slightest. 

"Anything special going on today?" He chirped, smile wide and warm, like sunshine pouring down on her. 

The list of irritating aspects was just endless, it seemed. His constant open friendliness somehow breached her defenses and she apparently immediately lost the ability to be discreet. If he asked a question, she answered-honest and with no hesitation.

She hated it, and it perplexed her.

"As of now, it looks as though I'll be spending the afternoon designing. My only meeting was canceled."

Adrien's face brightened, a feat that really should have been impossible. "Lucky break for you, huh? You'll have to tell me what you come up with tomorrow." His smile was a touch cheeky and the simmer in her blood couldn't be wholly dismissed as irritation.

Marinette wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that he had the audacity to assume she'd come back tomorrow, or the fact that he was right, despite only knowing her for a few weeks. 

Of course, her pride pushed her to retort before her brain could really catch up. "Perhaps. If you're lucky."

Her jaw snapped shut with an audible click and she snatched her drink from his hand, nearly sprinting back outside because it was a lovely day and she could use the sunshine. It had nothing to do with Adrien’s laughter- which was the summer breeze to the sunshine that was his smile- and his farewell

“Bye Marinette! See you tomorrow!”

She sighed, heavily.

Despite herself, Marinette quite liked Adrien, and not just because he was painfully similar to the partner that lurked just out of her reach. He was charming, but kind and genuine. Much like Chat, he was very nearly transparent, every thought and emotion clearly written across his- unfairly sculpted- features.

She tucked herself into a patio table out of sight of any windows or doors, and tried to not think about her embarrassment or the fact that she was putting conscious effort into maintaining her routine without letting him see her. If there was one thing she had learned in the last few years as Ladybug, not to mention working her way up in a competitive industry, it was to never back down.

But here she was, running from the nicest guy on the planet- literally. 

At that moment, her eyes caught on her cup and she groaned, letting her head collide with her sketchbook. 

As usual, he’d refused to write her name correctly. 

Everyday, he scrawled something on her cup-and it was never her name. It had begun with the hearts dotting the "i" that first day, and spread like a disease. Of course, rather than let him ‘win’ their little game, Marinette had intentionally never read the cup while in his presence, waiting until she was secreted away to see what ridiculous doodle he’d left for her. 

Today his looping letters spelled out “Princess” with the “p” wearing a little crown, and the “i” dotted with a star.

Marinette told herself the twisting in her stomach was just nausea from low blood sugar, and turned the cup around. 

Tucking her bluetooth over her ear to look casual, she propped open her purse for a giggling Tikki. “Oh haha, laugh it up and watch us both go on a diet.”

Tikki just giggled harder, “I just think he’s very charming, Marinette. Maybe even more than Chat Noir.”

She pointedly ignored her, concentrating very hard on not comparing the two more than she already had. 

“I’m just saying!” Tikki continued, “You haven’t put yourself out there in a very long time, and you spend most of your time at work. There’s nothing wrong with being friendly.”

“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone, Tikki.” Marinette sighed, eyeing the door of the cafe with an irrational paranoia. “I have too many other things to worry about and I don’t need a man, either Chat _or_ Adrien.”

“No one said you had to date him, Marinette!” Tikki burst into renewed glee, her laugh small and melodic, like a fairy’s. “But you probably could if you wanted to, he seems to like you.”

Marinette aimed a hard glare at her, and definitely was not blushing at the same time. “ _Anyway_ , I don’t have time to make friends either.” 

If Tikki said anything else, Marinette didn’t hear it, having already replaced her bluetooth with headphones. 

\----

  
  


Although she refused to admit it aloud, Marinette was overly aware of exactly how charming, and handsome, and _friendly_ Adrien was, and by extension, how easy it would be to be charmed, and flattered, and friendly in return. The thought in- and of- itself was nearly enough to tear down the walls around her heart she’d been convinced were unshakeable.

She hadn’t put herself out there for a friendship, much less a date, since highschool. Chat didn’t count, not because she didn’t love him- more than she’d care to admit- but because loving him was easy when she never had to deal with it. Secret identities lend themselves well to those with commitment issues. 

(Marinette liked to say that she didn’t think about what might happen after they really knew each other, but that was a lie.)

And now, her pride suffering with every passing moment, she’d been reduced to actively hiding from a guy who probably had women throwing themselves at him. She’d almost invited Kagami to join her for lunch, but finding herself sulking on a park bench after bolting as soon as her eyes landed on Adrien, she was grateful the other woman wasn’t there to mock her. 

On the other hand, maybe that was the kick in the ass she needed to pull it together. 

A scream tore her from her thoughts and Marinette lurched to her feet before she even realized what she was doing. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, itching to leap into action out of habit more than anything else. Scanning her surroundings for the source, she sprinted up the street in her best guess at the direction the scream had come from. 

Marinette barreled around a corner and nearly received an involuntary nose job, a massive black mass missing her face by less than an inch. It sliced clean through a car just behind her. 

Three years ago that might have made her queasy, but she’d been in the car’s position on occasion, and it’s hard to phase someone who has been impaled. 

Chat didn’t enjoy her shish kabob jokes, but if she didn’t laugh about it, she would probably cry, so she still brought them up every now and again.

As she watched, the alley cat in question rocketed into the fray, and Marinette should have turned tail and found somewhere to transform, but an icy shiver raced down her spine and rooted her feet into the ground. 

Chat rolled into a crouch and looked up. Their eyes met and held- a second too long. 

The akuma reeled back, a misshapen shadow creature writhing like a pack of eels, and launched another projectile.

Her eyes blew wide. A scream choked and died in her throat.

Time slowed.

She was sprinting again. 

In one second, her body collided with Chat’s, warm and solid and tumbling to the ground. 

In the next, lightning exploded in her ribs and ricocheted through her chest, a quick glance told her she was bleeding. 

(But he wasn’t dead, and that’s what really mattered.)

Chat was on his feet in seconds, gathering her in his arms and vaulting onto the nearest rooftop. His feet hit the roof already running, and Marinette had to bite her tongue to keep herself from demanding he put her down and then thoroughly scold him for not being more careful.

But she couldn’t. Because she was Marinette. The random civilian that just threw herself in front of a deadly projectile to save his life and was currently bleeding in his arms. 

So she cleared her throat and chanced a glance up at him. Her words died on her tongue when she glimpsed the naked fear written across his face, pupils dilated and ears flat against his skull. A crack snaked through the ice around her heart.

“Uhm, Chat Noir?” Marinette breathed, wincing when he misstepped and a knife that didn’t exist twisted in her side.

Chat stared blankly down at her, almost as if he were surprised to hear her speak, for reasons unknown to her.

She broke eye contact, “You can put me down, I’m okay.”

He slowed to a stop, but kept her clutched to his chest, protectively. Ladybug had been held like this too many times to count, but it was a first for Marinette, and despite the fact that her blood was literally on both of their hands, she had to fight the blush spreading across her cheeks.

“You’re bleeding.” Chat’s voice was unsteady, soft in a way that she hadn’t heard in a long time, and it took all her self control to school her features into a neutral cluelessness. “Why did you do that?”

Luckily, she didn’t have to lie. “It would have killed you.”

If anything, this only seemed to upset him more, his face crumpled for a fraction of a second and she wondered if it was just her imagination that tears glistened in his eyes.

It probably was, since he had no fucking idea who she was.

Or maybe he was just moved to tears by her sheer stupidity. 

“Anyway,” Marinette tried again, her tone artificially cheerful and her smile strained with the effort to not give away her identity or her pain. “You should probably help Ladybug so I can, y’know, stop bleeding. Sooner rather than later.”

This time Chat’s jaw actually dropped and internally she mused the pros and cons of successfully rendering him speechless at the price of her physical safety. Kicking her feet gently until he released her, Marinette wobbled, her knees weak and her side gushing with fresh blood at the position change. She kept her tight smile pasted on, knowing it would take twice as long to get him to leave if he caught on to the true severity of her wound.

And then she might actually bleed out before she could cast the Cure, which would really piss her off since this was, like, not even in the top ten injuries. 

His brow furrowed and the look on his face was almost a scowl, but it didn’t seem directed at her. “Stay here, I’ll come back.”

“What?” Marinette yelped before she could help herself, hissing at the fresh pain prickling in her side. 

Chat stepped towards her, eyes wide and earnest, and his clawed hand twitched at his side. “Please, just stay here, so I know you’re safe.” 

She blinked at him, “I, uh-”

“Please?” His voice nearly broke halfway through and Marinette resolved to talk to her partner soon and make sure he was okay.

A soft sigh huffed from her lips. “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait here.” Her fingers were crossed behind her back. A different ache bruised to life in the center of her chest; there was nothing she hated more than lying to her partner, but it was better for them both if she was nowhere to be found. 

Plus, she’d gone almost six years without encountering Chat as herself, it would probably be another 3 at least before it happened again. If she was lucky. 

But relief rolled over Chat’s features at her words, “Thank you, I-I’ll come back.” 

Marinette bit back a frustrated scream and a million questions she could never voice, instead treating him to a reassuring nod. Some of the tension left his shoulders as he gave her one more long look, as if he was searching for some truth in her eyes only to come up empty, and turned to vault back across the city. 

Groaning into the empty air as soon as he vanished from sight, Marinette sank to her knees and flicked open her purse to free Tikki. “This is just my fucking luck.” 

\----

  
  


Much to her relief, transforming had all but eliminated the pain in her side and she probably wasn't even bleeding anymore- it was hard to say with the suit. Ladybug rebounded off a wall and skidded to a stop on the same street corner she'd been standing on less than 20 minutes earlier, taking in the scene. 

The akuma hadn't moved very much, and she still had no idea what its deal was, but Chat couldn’t seem to stop moving. He was nearly as much of a black mass as the creature, thanks to the speed with which he was throwing himself into combat. But Ladybug could tell immediately that it lacked his usual finesse. 

This was choppy, discordant, and reckless, relying on pure strength and agility just to avoid strikes, much less land any. In the seconds since she’d arrived, the akuma had nearly managed to knock him out of the air no less than three times, with Chat barely escaping by the skin of his teeth. The rage that ignited in her veins spread like a wildfire. She took that hit for him, as a _civilian_ , and he had the audacity to come back and try to get himself killed before Ladybug could even arrive.

Of all the ungrateful, ridiculous things he’d ever done- and he didn’t even know it was her. Something oily inside her twisted, uncomfortable with the thought of Chat losing it like this over a random girl. She didn’t waste a spare moment to shove that thought back in the box of horrors it had come from before it could get any farther.

Irrationally, Ladybug considered the idea that if he made it through the fight, she could always strangle him herself before she cast the Cure. Not that she could ever manage to pull it off. 

(A near silent whisper in the dark recess of her mind whispered that she only had to ask and he would lay down and die, no effort on her part.)

So she pulled it together and launched into the fray. Much like earlier, Ladybug crashed full-body into her partner, only this time with her enhanced strength she was much more effective. They rolled to a stop in an alley, and she grimaced when something squished unpleasantly under her hand, leaping to her feet. 

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing out there?” She snarled, jumping between him and the exit. 

Chat was already on his feet, balanced on his toes, with his tail lashing behind him- not an abnormal sight. But his eyes scanned her in a feral, almost unfocused way, as if he was having a hard time figuring out what was going on. The last time he’d looked like that was after a particular nasty fall that ended with a direct blow to his head- she was pretty sure it was a concussion. 

Just what they needed today.

Her heart softened minutely, before she remembered that his own recklessness was what had caused it this time. Ladybug took a deep breath and moved towards him slowly, cupping his cheeks so she could check his pupils as if she knew what a concussion looked like. 

He inhaled sharply and a tense second passed before his entire body relaxed and a smile broke across his face like the sun, “Oh, hi, Bug.” 

Ladybug gaped at him, “Oh hi, Bug? That’s all you have to say?” 

Stuttering, Chat’s eyes flicked to their surroundings and he seemed to find some clarity. He stepped back out of her grasp- she pretended it didn’t prick like needles against her heart- and avoided her eyes. “I’m sorry, LB, I can’t keep my thoughts straight, as soon as I see the akuma I’m just moving senselessly. It hurt my- it hurt my friend and I panicked”

His words crashed over her like an arctic wave, swallowing her whole and filling her lungs until she couldn’t breath. Ladybug bit her lip until it bled to stop from screaming, crying, confessing, before she managed to form something like a sentence.

“It hurt your- um, okay, she- uh- they’ll- be fine, we just have to purify the akuma and fix everything right up!” Overly perky and optimistic, and had Chat Noir not been tumbling untethered through his own thoughts, he might have noticed.

But he didn’t. 

(That shouldn’t surprise her. He called her his _friend,_ which meant he knew her and he hadn’t noticed.)

(Of course, neither had she, hypocrite that she was.)

Instead, they both threw themselves back into battle, and despite the fact that neither of them was all there and they were unusually out of sync, the fight was over in less than ten minutes. It made Ladybug wonder if he was as desperate to get away as she was, though for very different reasons.

She tossed the spotted flashlight her Lucky Charm had provided into the sky and cast her Cure, turning towards Chat with her mouth open, only to find him already backing away from her.

“I, uh, I need to find my-” He struggled to form the words, sheepish and awkward and painfully reminiscent of when they were younger and he was so much easier to fluster. 

Ladybug just nodded and faked a smile, pretending once again- this time that it didn’t bother her he hadn’t even stuck around long enough to fist bump her. 

It seemed almost silly, but skipping that little tradition was a rare event, and it almost felt like an omen, hanging dark in the sky above them.

As he vaulted in the opposite direction, a sickly ache began to grow in her chest the more his silhouette shrank. Her rational brain knew it couldn’t be helped that she had to ditch Chat, no matter how much grief it would give him, but it didn’t soothe the guilt. And the acid undertone beneath it whispered with truly irrational envy over Chat so openly caring about someone- even if that someone was herself. 

Worst of all, unless he was lying, he _knew_ her, and she was the one who would have to deal with the consequences.

\----

Marinette barreled through the door of Kagami’s office without bothering to knock, not that the sudden disruption phased the stoic woman in the slightest. She waltzed across the dark carpet, refusing to acknowledge Kagami’s dark eyes narrowing on her. And she knew that if it weren’t for the fact that her friend’s phone was squawking loud enough for her to hear, she would have gotten an earful.

As it was, Marinette made herself comfortable in a plush armchair, slipping off her flats and tucking her feet underneath her. She watched Kagami repeatedly roll her eyes, silently listening to whoever was on the other end ramble ceaselessly. At one point, she huffed in an exasperated sort of way and Marinette could see the limit to her patience rapidly approaching. 

Finally, she snapped and pulled the phone away from her face to scowl at it as if the other person could see, but her voice was flat and even, “You’re an idiot.” 

A masculine voice whined loud enough for Marinette to hear across the room. “Kagami! Please-” 

The phone was cut off before she could catch anything more, so she aimed a plastic smile at her friend. “Seems a little harsh, even for you. Who spit in your coffee today?” 

“Ex-boyfriend, of all things.” Kagami sighed, her expression transforming from exasperated to devious in seconds. “Besides, if anyone has spit in their coffee it’s you- for ditching that barista of yours yesterday.”

Marinette wondered if she would ever know peace again at this rate; maybe she’d start investing in heavy duty foundation to smother the near constant blush painting her cheeks. Avoiding eye contact, she studied the view out of Kagami’s window- near identical to her own, but infinitely more appealing than meeting her friend’s soul penetrating gaze. “How do you even know about that?”

“I have my ways.” Kagami’s voice was smug and her expression sly as a fox five steps ahead of a hunting dog when Marinette’s head jerked back to glare at her. “So where were you?” 

(Certainly not bleeding all over Chat Noir’s too tight, leather catsuit.)

“I just...decided I needed a walk.” It was a lame excuse and she knew they both knew it.

One of Kagami’s perfectly sculpted brows arched high, “I’ve never seen you exercise.” 

Marinette held up her thumb and index finger less than an inch apart. “I am this close to fist fighting you right here, right now.”

Straight faced, Kagami replied without hesitation, “All due respect, Marinette, you’re wearing a pencil skirt and I would kick your ass.” A smile flickered across her lips. 

“Shut _up!”_ Marinette snatched a cushion from the other chair and chucked it at her face. 

“All I’m saying is, you’re stunted and pent up at the same time. You need to get out; and if Handsome-Barista-Boy wants to go down on you, I say let him.” A laugh rippled between Kagami’s words, “Unless you’ve decided to switch teams entirely, then I can make some calls and find you a very attractive barista girl.”

The tension slowly left her body as she relaxed into their routine of teasing and bantering, Kagami was her other best friend and while their friendship hadn’t always been easy, it was one she treasured dearly. 

“First of all, I’m offended on your behalf because why would I ever settle for a random barista girl when you are _right here,_ but I digress.” Marinette crossed her arms, doing her best to emulate the emotion of looking down on her friend-despite it being physically impossible thanks to the solid five inches that Kagami had on her without heels. “I am batting for neither team, as you well know, my one true love is fashion.”

Kagami’s eyes glinted and Marinette cringed, bracing herself for whatever quip she was about to drop.

“Not my kink, but whatever gets you off.”

Tension hung between them as they stared each other down. Marinette knew she was going to lose, she always did, but she didn’t let that stop her from trying. She huffed and broke eye contact. “We’re getting a divorce.” 

Kagami’s smile was victorious but she didn’t waste time gloating, “Please, as if you could survive without me.”

“Whatever!” Marinette drew out the ‘r’ and slipped her shoes back on, as if she were heading for the door and stuck her tongue out at her friend.

It was all an act, of course. It had taken a lot of work to get Kagami comfortable with being silly and teasing and telling jokes, but the freedom of judgement in their interactions was what kept their friendship strong over the years and not a day went by that Marinette wasn’t thankful to have her.

“A retreat is just another form of defeat,” Kagami teased. Her laugh was husky and subtle, very different from the raucous outburst that Chat favoured, or Adrien’s rolling warmth, but her tone betrayed affection even if her face did not. “Did you hear about what else happened yesterday?” she asked, halting Marinette in her tracks.

She glanced back at her and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. 

“Someone posted a video of yesterday’s akuma battle,” 

Marinette stiffened at her words, trepidation dripping down her spine.

Kagami didn’t seem to notice, plowing on in that headstrong way of hers. “-a civilian threw herself in front of Chat Noir and got hit.” 

“Was she okay?” Marinette held her gaze unflinchingly, knowing that her friend was neither blind nor stupid. But she also knew when Kagami was testing her and this was practically a final exam in terms of scrutiny and nerves. 

“There have been some theories circulating. Speculation that he might have died if she hadn’t pushed him away- and that the mystery woman might be Ladybug.” Kagami made a show of adjusting the silk scarf tied around her collar and hummed noncommittally, “Shame that the videos are too far away to make out her face.” 

Kagami played this game every day as head of personal relations for _Gabriel,_ to say she was a pro would be an understatement, and Marinette knew from experience that she had yet to make her point. So she kept her mouth shut and pasted on a curious expression to bid her to continue.

Turning away, Kagami shuffled some papers on her desk, the picture of disinterest. Marinette was not fooled in the slightest, if anything, she became more aware by the second. “She was wearing a lovely pastel pink top that looked familiar, though, perhaps if you took a look, you might be able to place the designer.”

And there it was. Shame on her for pulling a stunt like that as a civilian, not that she regretted it- not that it could have been avoided. Her mysterious break from habit made it back to Kagami, who always thought too hard about things, and maybe anyone else might not recognize her custom-made blouse from a shitty video, but not the woman who had watched her design it. 

This week really refused to cut her a break. 

She was already spending too much time not thinking about the fact that she was somehow friends with Chat Noir, or at least knew him well enough to not be a stranger, she didn’t need extra anxiety about Kagami figuring out her identity.

This was far from the first time that Kagami had ever been too smart for both her and Marinette’s own good, but if Kagami was a pro at weaseling out information, Marinette was the world champion at keeping a secret. So she forced a laugh that almost sounded genuine. “I can try, but if the video quality is as bad as you say, I probably won’t get very far.” 

Her Ladybug luck held and Kagami’s phone rang. The taller woman aimed a sharp not-quite-glare at her, “I have to take this. Don’t forget we have that shoot in a few days.”

Marinette waved a hand over her shoulder, already halfway out the door. The shoot was a problem for Future Marinette. 

\----

Marinette hesitated in the doorway of her usual cafe, and considered turning tail and bolting. But she really wanted her coffee and, with the way everything else in her life was going, maybe it would do her some good to talk to her sunny sort-of-friend. 

Acquaintance seemed too harsh a label for the interactions between her and the handsome blond; plus, an acquaintance didn’t usually tease you and call you princess. That said, she wasn’t sure friend was the right word either. 

She squared her shoulders and resolved not to humiliate herself by running, tail between her legs, the way she had yesterday. Practical kitten heels clicking on the dark tile, Marinette took in the almost disturbing lack of customers. Aside from Adrien behind the counter, there was only one other individual in the store- a young woman, probably a university student, tucked in the corner with a laptop and books stacked six high next to her. 

“Marinette!” Adrien’s shout echoed in the unusual emptiness, leaving her to wonder if it was the lack of people that pitched his voice high with excitement, or something else she couldn't name.

She gave him a weak wave and crooked smile, "Hello, Adrien. Causing much trouble today?"

A laugh burst from his chest as he tipped his head back, long bangs falling away from his face and for what must have been the hundredth time, Marinette could see why he had been a model. No one should be allowed to look that good

(Except Chat- but he doesn't count and it's totally different anyway.)

"Just the usual amount," His natural grin was charmingly lopsided, and the imperfection of it was more beautiful than any of his more polished smiles could ever be, even if it did remind her a little too much of her partner. "How about you? Are you okay?" 

He seemed earnest and genuine, but the way he asked was off. Marinette tilted her head and watched him ring her up, "I'm okay...Why do you ask?"

It was probably just her imagination but it looked like a faint pink tinged his cheeks and Adrien spun on his heel to make himself very busy with her drink. "Well, uh, you didn't show yesterday, and you're usually really consistent so that was kinda weird and I-"

The words broke off when she giggled softly, enjoying flustering him for once. "Excuse me? Are you trying to say you missed me after only one day?"

(Her mouth was really running away with her this time, but Marinette almost didn’t mind.)

He definitely blushed that time and she would be lying if she said it didn't feed her ego a little bit, but he recovered well, "You caught me, one day without the sight of your breathtaking visage ages me like the passage of centuries. I feared I might never see you again." Adrien finished off with a well aimed and truly criminal wink in her direction. 

Marinette was reminded of her earlier consideration of investing in heavy duty foundation as her cheeks burned, the idea more appealing by the second. But her pride kicked in again and kept her steadfast, so she rolled her eyes in a dramatized mockery. “Well, I’m certainly pleased to find you managed to survive in my absence.”

“Only just barely, Princess," He tipped his head down and peered up at her from under unfairly thick lashes, a whine tinging his voice, that was as halfway familiar as everything else about him. But she was too busy listening to him speak to think about it. “First you ditched me, then I’m pretty sure I upset one of my best friends, and the other one called me an idiot this morning. Seems like all the beautiful and intelligent women in my life are out to get me.”

Adrien managed to deliver his entire spiel without batting an eye, the picture of devastation as he pouted pitifully, and some part of her wanted to smack his shoulder and scold him for being a cad. 

The rest of Marinette’s brain was very busy juggling the flush of pleasure at his compliment, with the fact that she was grouped in with more than one other woman he was apparently close with, and on top of it all, her mounting irritation and anxiety over the fact that she cared at all. 

Quite honestly, she didn’t register much of what happened after that, until she was barreling back to work, eyes glued to the ridiculous, childish, absolutely not charming in the slightest, storm of hearts surrounding not her actual name, but a nickname she hadn’t gone by since highschool. And certainly not one she’d suggested he call her.

_Mari_

The ‘i’ was dotted with a heart too, of course. Marinette wanted to be angry, she wanted her veins to flush with irritation, to, at the very least, want to tell him off or spurn him for a few days as punishment for dragging up ancient, painful memories. But that wouldn't be fair. 

Because for the first time since she was seventeen and pulling herself together to ignore falsely desperate pleas of “Mari, wait, I’m sorry-” as she shoved the asshole who wrecked her life out of the way- the nickname didn’t hurt. It didn’t sting bitter with the memory of the last man who’d spoken it.

(Some part of her, small, but insistent, wanted to hear him say it, with his honeyed voice and petal pink lips.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! I know this was a hefty chapter, it got away from me a little
> 
> Let me know what y'all think and keep your eyes out, there is more coming soon!


	3. New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That argument was like pouring gasoline on the simmering fire in her veins, immediately engulfing her in a wildfire of unbridled rage. She stalked forward, looming over where he was still sprawled on the pavement. “Do you seriously think that if Ladybug had showed up and you were dead-”
> 
> (she spat the word as if it were acid on her tongue, burning a hole through to her soul) 
> 
> “-she would have just hopped to beat that akuma and set things right, no problem?” 
> 
> Owlish eyes, wide and vibrant gems beneath the cover of messy bangs, blinked up at her. “Well, I-” He fell silent without her having to interrupt, a stretch of rosy blush painting the pale cheeks beneath the edge of his mask. But now those eyes, wider than the expanse of an ocean, were boring into her soul in a soft and awestruck sort of way that she occasionally caught him giving her alter ego. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooookay, so the good news is I split this next chapter into two parts and cause it got out of hand, I'll be posting the second part in a few days so there won't be a long wait til more :D
> 
> As always a shoutout to my beta Papillon10 for putting up with my scatterbrained antics

Marinette tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders, less from the cold and more to soothe her anxiety about someone following her. She knew there was no one there. She’d checked more than once, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t take someone down if it came to that. But the feeling of eyes on her back lingered, and she was beginning to regret turning down Tikki’s offer of making their way home as Ladybug. 

It hadn’t seemed like such a long walk at the time, but now she had a few more blocks to go and the foreboding feeling puffing its breath across her neck only continued to grow. She was hesitant to try and duck into an alley to transform, risking someone noticing, but the temptation lingered. 

Something flickered in her periphery, but when she chased it with her eyes there was nothing there. 

When her eyes drifted front again, the shadows before her seemed to bend and shift, a figure melting from the darkness. Marinette bit back a shriek of surprise and instinctively struck, throwing a lightning fast punch aimed for the figure’s face.

A strong hand caught her wrist in midair, the grip firm, but gentle, and accompanied by a deep, friendly laugh. The tension drained from her body instantly, staggering her. She knew that laugh almost as well as her own name, like a song from her dreams etched permanently into her memory. It echoed with a wild tang of freedom, glinting eyes and messy hair, lost in the shadowed winds of Parisian nights. 

If Adrien’s laugh was sunshine peeking between lush green leaves, Chat’s laugh was moonlight filtering between the skyscrapers to kiss her cheeks. 

“Sorry to _cat-_ ch you unawares like that!” His voice lilted with good humor and only a little remorse, but snapped her back to reality.

Marinette yanked her arm from his grasp and crossed it over her chest, fixing an exasperated expression on her face with little effort. “Why are you lurking in alleyways and ambushing unsuspecting women, Chat Noir?” It was half a tease, but with a little more bite than might have been strictly necessary. 

Even in the dim light, she could see his brow furrow, but his lips twitched with a smile. “I’ll have you know that I am _patrolling_ these alleyways to _protect_ unsuspecting women from ambushes.” The smile stretched up into a wicked smirk, the barest flash of fang teasing her. “Especially beautiful and daring damsels who have been known to get themselves into trouble.” 

Rolling her eyes hard enough that it hurt, Marinette tilted her head away from him to hide the sudden and humiliating blush heating her entire face. 

(Perfect. One interaction with him as a civilian and she’s reverted to the idiot schoolgirl she was when she first met him.)

Chat was hardly deterred by her lack of response, if anything his smirk only seemed to grow more teasing and self-satisfied. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you ditched me the other day.” 

“Sorry, I-well I just really wanted to go home after that.” She forced a stiff laugh, avoiding his eyes-nearly luminescent, glowing like her north star in the darkness.

One of his hands reached towards her, the clawed fingers twitching the way they did when he wanted to touch her but was hesitating. If she had been Ladybug, she might have met him in the middle, to let him overcome the block someone in his life had left him with. But she wasn’t Ladybug, she was Marinette, so she lingered just out of reach.

“You’re okay though?” Those unearthly eyes, wide and earnest, softened her brusque exterior.

(Every muscle ached to tug him into her arms and hold him tight for as long as he’d let her.)

Marinette fixed a sunny smile on her face. “No harm, no foul, not even a scar.” A facade of humor spread across her words, although she wasn’t sure how effective it was. 

A tension she hadn’t noticed until it was leaving drained from Chat’s shoulders and his smile, gleaming perfectly like something out of a magazine in the most unfair sort of way, seemed more genuinely happy and relaxed. “Then thanks, Red. For what you did.” 

The nickname was unsurprising, what with his penchant for them and the fact that her coat was a vibrant scarlet, but stiffened her spine with anxiety. One of his hands scrubbed at the back of his neck in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner as he continued. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Her eyes snapped up to fix on him in an indignant glare, only just managing not to smack him like the idiot he is. “Of course I should have.”

“Better me than a civilian!” Chat retorted, waving a hand at his suit, “This is just about indestructible.”

Without even realizing, Marinette’s eyes had followed his gesture, tracing the leather that clung to every dip and curve of muscle. A rush of something heated sparked in her gut, immediately smothered by irritation with his words. A lie they often used with civilians, and anyone not paying much attention might believe it, but their supernatural armor was not infallible, and a massive spike aimed directly for his torso would not have just glanced off. 

Scowling, she jabbed a finger into his chest, pounding it in time with her words, “It would not have protected you from that. You could have died.”

Chat stumbled back, tripping over uneven cobblestone and tumbling back on his ass with a look of shock fixed to his features. “Even if I had, Ladybug would have fixed me, she always does!” 

That argument was like pouring gasoline on the simmering fire in her veins, immediately engulfing her in a wildfire of unbridled rage. She stalked forward, looming over where he was still sprawled on the pavement. “Do you seriously think that if Ladybug had showed up and you were _dead-_ ”

(she spat the word as if it were acid on her tongue, burning a hole through to her soul) 

“-she would have just hopped to beat that akuma and set things right, no problem?” 

Owlish eyes, wide and vibrant gems beneath the cover of messy bangs, blinked up at her. “Well, I-” He fell silent without her having to interrupt, a stretch of rosy blush painting the pale cheeks beneath the edge of his mask. But now those eyes, wider than the expanse of an ocean, were boring into her soul in a soft and awestruck sort of way that she occasionally caught him giving her alter ego. 

(But now-she was Just Marinette, and it felt very different.)

“You’re a fucking moron.” Marinette snapped, breaching the silent gap between them to wrap her fingers around the bell gleaming in the hollow of his throat and yank. Then his lips were crashing into hers, bruising and clumsy and sending tendrils of electricity spiraling through her entire body as she moaned into his mouth.

Some distant part of her whispered caution, but it was lost in the ever growing cloud, heady around her, when his clawed fingers drifted up to tangle in her hair, tugging her face closer and angling to deepen the kiss. A sharp canine caught on the sensitive skin of her lip, stinging deliciously, and she gasped. 

Chat didn’t hesitate, tongue diving between the miniscule gap to brush against her own, burning with the same slick and viscous fire racing through her veins. Marinette felt as though she were freefalling, plummeting through the atmosphere like Icarus as consequence for her hubris. But she couldn’t bring herself to be afraid, not when she was safer than she’d ever been, with his hands in her hair and his lips pressed to hers as if she were his everything.

(Or maybe it was the other way around.)

For the barest glimmer of a second in the eons passing between sharp gasps and gentle moans and desperate fingers clutching at each other, Marinette considered giving him everything. 

And then his lips broke from hers, skin still brushing skin, to breath, cracked and delicate, “ _Marinette._ ”

Her name falling from his lips like a sinner's prayer shattered the lust clouded haze hanging heavy over them. She jerked back, gasping for breath, and for a fraction of a second, their eyes met. His pupils were blown wide, the barest ring of vibrant emerald dark with lust that twisted like a burning coil in her gut. 

Marinette spun on her heel and sprinted the last few blocks home, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen by the time she stopped, slumped against her apartment door. She slid down the surface to sit with her back still pressed to the wood, panting through waves of exhaustion and panic. 

“Fuck!” She groaned, throwing her head back against the door with a satisfying thump, the dull pain calming her ever so slightly. “I’ve ruined everything! I can’t believe I could be so stupid, I’ve spent _years_ keeping everything under wraps so perfectly and- and I just- _ugh!”_

Tikki phased through her purse to swoop up and rub against Marinette’s cheek, cooing soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Marinette.”

“Oh god, Tikki.” Marinette whined, “I can’t believe I did that.”

“I can.” Tikki giggled, bell-like and maybe even a little smug. 

“Tikki! I’m serious!” She yelped, “I just-I’ve spent so long convincing myself I couldn’t-” Marinette coughed, a fresh heat rising in her cheeks. “-I couldn’t be in love with anyone, because I only wanted to be in love with-with him, and he’s just out of reach and-and that was easy and comfortable, but now?” 

Her mouth was running away with her yet again, some dam in her soul splintering to pieces and pouring forth everything she’d long thought but been too terrified to voice. “Now?” She repeated, a note of hysteria creeping into her voice. “Now he’s right in front of me, _just_ me, just _Marinette,_ but he’s more than just kind and friendly, he actually cares about me, somehow, someway, enough to look _Ladybug_ in the eye and say it and-”

“-And he looked at me like he looks at _her._ ” The words ghosted from her lips like a confession, and maybe, in a way, it was, as she looked up at Tikki and let exhausted tears finally spill from the corners of her eyes, searing trails in their wake.

(“Like he loves me,” she doesn’t say, but maybe she wants to.)

\---

Marinette wandered into the cafe on autopilot and realized her mistake 30 seconds too late to course correct. Which is to say, at the exact moment she made eye contact with too green eyes that were just a shade off from the glowing orbs burning on the backs of her eyelids every time she blinked, gleaming with something she was still too afraid to name. 

"Hey Marinette!" Adrien's voice was warm and friendly as always, like a toasted marshmallow, rather than edged with smokey steel. 

She relaxed- barely- and forced a smile. "Hi Adrien, how are you?"

He eyed her a little curiously as he went through the daily motions of ringing her up-which no longer required any effort on her part aside from passing him the appropriate payment. "Can't complain too much. You?"

(The honest answer would be that she was experiencing an ongoing wave of ecstasy matched in fervor only by the crippling anxiety that she'd ruined her entire life.)

"Dreading the big project I have coming up." She said instead. The smile her lips were frozen into felt more plastic than ever, but Marinette's voice was steady, an almost sarcastic deadpan.

Adrien laughed, and the lack of fluttering in her gut was a relief immediately chased by alarm at the implications of its absence. But before she could parse that properly her gaze caught on his too pearly, too perfect smile, glinting just right in the light to give the impression of a fang. And suddenly she was spiraling through dark heat and sharp pain soothed by burning caresses, blinking rapidly to bring herself back to the cafe and the very different man in front of her.

One of his- perfectly sculpted, really would it be weird to ask where he got them done?- eyebrows was raised, and his eyes were boring into her soul like a lighthouse lantern. But then the look melted into the vacant jubilance that often reminded her of a golden retriever puppy and she wondered if she'd imagined it in the first place. 

"Well Princess," Adrien drawled, "If you are in need of a dashing knight to rescue you, I am ever at your service." This was, of course, finished with a half bow and devious wink that lit goosebumps on her skin with its familiarity. 

It took all her self control not to bolt before he even passed over her drink. 

Her smile was a strained grimace more than anything else, but the blush blanketing her face in a heavy cloud was enough to make him smile sunnily back at her, somehow maintaining the perfect appearance of innocence, save for the mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. 

(She had the strangest impression that he knew more than he should, more than he'd ever tell.)

(But that was probably wishful thinking at best.)

Forcing another, much weaker, smile onto her face, Marinette faked a laugh, “I’m sure that’s what you tell all the girls.” She was only half teasing and didn’t quite meet his eyes when she took her drink.

But if he noticed, it didn’t show in his melodramatic gasp of “Excuse me? What sort of man do you think I am?” 

Glancing up to roll her eyes, she found Adrien slumping pitifully, with a hand pressed to his forehead as if he might faint. But his facade broke as soon as he peeked one eye open to check her reaction, and he laughed at her disgruntled expression. 

Marinette cracked a small smile and waved as she turned to leave, willing to at the very least acknowledge that his antics brightened her day. 

“See you around, Red!” Adrien hollered after her, his voice brash and tinged with glee.

Marinette’s heart stuttered and she tripped over nothing, stumbling before regaining her balance and spinning to gape at him. “What?” She asked.

Adrien took a step back, seeming startled by her reaction. “Uh-” He sputtered, a tinge of pink spreading across his cheeks, and gestured in her direction “You always wear something red, even if it’s small.” 

He was right, obviously, and today it was a striped pencil skirt hugging her hips. She stepped back towards him, without even really thinking about it, furrowing her brow and searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. “You noticed that?”

“I’m not just a pretty face, Princess,” Adrien drawled, in a way that was too much like a specific purr not to send a shiver down her spine, “I notice more than you think.”

“Oh?” Maybe it was her pride rearing its ugly head, or just some morbid curiosity about how she was perceived, but Marinette found herself standing as close to him as she could with the counter between them, a taunt falling from her lips. “What else have you noticed about me?”

There was again an unusual lack of customers for the time, but Adrien lowered his voice anyway, leaning towards her as if they were a pair of children trading secrets. “I noticed that you come in every day at the exact same time, which people tell me is your usual routine, _but_ you always take the time to talk to me.” He cocked an eyebrow at her with a glint in his eyes, and she knew he was about to try and tease her. “Not anyone else though. For years, I’m told, which makes me think you have trouble trusting people-”

Her brain was blaring alarms at top volume, as if she hadn’t realized her mistake as soon as she dared him to answer.

“-And if I wanted to tease you, I might say that you have a crush on me,” His smile was crooked and devious, “But actually, I think I remind you of someone else, someone you can’t see as often as me, I guess.” Adrien’s voice had gone soft, and at some point his gaze had dropped until he was peering up at her through his tragically lush eyelashes with an unusual hesitance. “Am I right?”

(More right than she’d ever dare admit aloud.)

A long moment passed.

Marinette stared at him, not even sure she was breathing, and took a single step back, every nerve in her body screaming at her to flee. “I have to, uh, go.” 

Adrien leaned forward and reached for her, “Marinette, I’m sorry if I overstepped I-”

“No, no, I pushed you and it’s okay, really. I just-” She stumbled further away, sputtering, “can’t talk about that right now.” 

(Or preferably, ever.)

“I understand,” He’d already backed up, and the fact that his shoulders were hunched ever so slightly and the bright spark was missing from his gaze twisted a knife of guilt in her side. “See you tomorrow?”

Marinette nodded, unable to deny him that after she’d already managed to set fire to the first bridge she’d managed to build in years, but also unable to offer a real reply. 

“Okay,” Adrien’s voice was delicate, fragile like a snowflake dissolving as soon as it appeared. “Bye, Mari.”

(The nickname caressed her cheeks with the kiss of a cherry blossom drifting on a spring breeze, and her chest ached with the knowledge.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marichat has entered the chat >.>
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed, the next chapter will be up in just a couple days! :D


	4. Rigid Flexibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Predictably, Marinette began to flush. “Is this a set up?” she snapped.
> 
> Kagami swiveled her head to show off her most polished neutral smile, completely inscrutable to Gabriel Agreste himself, much less Marinette’s too kind and- at least when it came to those close to her- too trusting heart. "No, Marinette, as you told me just a few days ago, your one true love is fashion."
> 
> She paused, just long enough to lull her into a false security before dealing the blow she knew would win the argument. “And especially not suspiciously handsome catboys that you definitely didn’t kiss on the street two nights ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Kagami Time >:)

Kagami Tsurugi was a put together and punctual person. She championed efficiency and timeliness and organization- but she also believed in flexibility and adapting to the elements, as it were.

Neither of her closest friends were exceptionally gifted in balancing the two. 

Both had separately made the joke that between them, she held all the brain cells, and quite frankly, Kagami was inclined to agree with them on that point. Especially in recent weeks. 

When Marinette had blown into her apartment and collapsed on her couch with all the grace of a Category 4 hurricane, just to spend an hour whining about the ‘absolutely infuriating barista’ who wouldn’t stop ‘harassing’ her, Kagami had expected to make swift work of the offending stranger by way of a sword to his neck. Although her first reaction had been veiled surprise that Marinette hadn’t already thrown hands herself. 

It had immediately become apparent that the woman in question was not nearly as bothered by the offender as she claimed. 

So she’d -mostly- silently absorbed the information and when Marinette finally paused for a breath, she’d leveled a steely glare at her and asked her point blank what she wanted her to say. 

Marinette had sputtered out a nonsensical excuse that reminded her terribly of the much shyer woman she’d been when they first met, and booked it like her hair had caught fire. 

And so began a pattern of sorts- Marinette dropping a comment about some joke the barista told her, a photo of the doodle he drew on her cup, or a bright pink stain highlighting her freckles as she very carefully avoided mentioning him at all. 

Kagami rolled her eyes and kept her responses consistent and to the point, if a little teasing. At times- which is to say, every time Marinette mentioned the barista- she looked her in the eye and suggested she stop being a coward and give him her number before all three of them died of old age.

Not to mention her other best friend, who had suggested she visit him at his new job, only for her to find that he was almost certainly the infamous barista in question. She'd nearly wrapped her fingers around his throat and squeezed til he went blue. 

But Kagami had been raised to know better than to commit a murder with witnesses, so she'd restrained herself.

Barely.

Especially when Adrien had the utter gall to double check with her that Marinette was not a spy sent by his father.

On the one hand, as the child of an oppressive and manipulative parent, she had totally understood. On the other, the fact that he had dared to even think that about her kind and compassionate friend, all while flirting with her like the absolute manwhore people accused him of being, nearly sent her over the edge.

Kagami had told him as much, only slightly less eloquently, but was careful not to reveal exactly how well she knew Marinette, and risk ruining the scheme already brewing in her mind. 

She poured hours of her time into orchestrating the perfect meet-cute, and if they managed to pull it off, it might be the most notable accomplishment of her career. Not just because she managed to drag Adrien Agreste himself kicking and screaming out of retirement, but also because she would solve both of her friends’ ever present relationship struggles and then maybe they would complain to each other and she could finally go on a single solitary date without one of her toddlers calling to whine. 

Although that might be pushing her luck. 

Either way, she’d spent far too much time on this plan to let either of them screw it up the morning of. So when Kagami walked into her office at 09:03 and found Marinette already lounging in one of her chairs with a surly expression and an uncharacteristically ruffled appearance, she suppressed the heavy groan lurking in her throat. 

She made a show of purposely ignoring her friend, and moved to tuck her purse in her desk, occupying herself with morning busywork. 

Marinette was glaring at her as menacingly as she could, with little success since, to date, she had won exactly three showdowns to Kagami’s innumerable score. After a few long moments of silence, her friend caved and whined, “Remind me what this shoot is again and why I have to model in it?”

Kagami met her gaze, raising a victorious eyebrow as she retorted, “I told you twice already, I managed to convince one of our old fan favourites to come out of retirement for this shoot only and we want to pair that with your empowerment story as a gorgeous, upcoming female designer who didn’t just create the clothes but can also pull them off with grace and finesse. We are aiming to marry our old brand with the new one by uniting the two of you in the same photoshoot.”

The spiel was the same load of bullshit she had managed to spin for Nathalie and the board when she’d originally pitched it, but it wasn’t the flimsiest excuse she’d ever sold. No one in their right mind would turn down Adrien Agreste’s return to the spotlight, however brief it might be- since she’d only managed to convince him to do one shoot by exchanging every single one of her stockpiled favours with him. 

But Kagami knew Marinette didn’t know enough to see through her yet, so she plowed on confidently and fixed her with a much more effective glare. “Besides, you’ll complement each other well and this has been planned for weeks so if you’re thinking of finding a window to hop out of, think again.”

It was only half a joke, considering that Marinette had once gotten very tipsy and after a brief moment of panic, jumped out a window and bouldered down three stories without a hair out of place. To say that her friends had been surprised by the uncharacteristic grace and athletic ability would have been an understatement and now, years later, she had yet to live it down. 

Predictably, Marinette began to flush. “Is this a set up?” she snapped.

Kagami swiveled her head to show off her most polished neutral smile, completely inscrutable to Gabriel Agreste himself, much less Marinette’s too kind and- at least when it came to those close to her- too trusting heart. "No, Marinette, as you told me just a few days ago, your one true love is fashion."

She paused, just long enough to lull her into a false security before dealing the blow she knew would win the argument. “And especially not suspiciously handsome catboys that you definitely didn’t kiss on the street two nights ago.”

Kagami had not actually seen her friend supposedly kiss the superhero, but she _had_ seen the photo that someone submitted to the Ladyblog. And perhaps she’d been fooled once by a distant, blurry shot, and perhaps a stranger might not immediately recognize Marinette. But Kagami was neither a fool nor a stranger and if she hadn’t been sure before, the blush rapidly overtaking not just her friend’s cheeks, but creeping down her neck as well, was a glaring confirmation. 

“Uuuuuh, my mom called-I’ve gotta...go.” Marinette was halfway out the door, missing one shoe, before she’d even finished her sentence and had to backtrack to snatch the flat off the floor.

“You’d better be _going_ to Hair and Makeup!” Kagami shouted after her, allowing a moment to laugh at her antics. The photo with Chat Noir did pose a potential wrench to her perfect meet-cute, especially if he had Marinette acting like a blushing schoolgirl over just a kiss, but it was far too late to backtrack now so she resolved to just be prepared for damage control if it came to it. 

Rolling her shoulders, she turned back to her desktop and began the daily management that needed to be done before the shoot, hoping that the silence would last at least a few minutes.

Of course, as if she’d jinxed herself, her door swung open and in barrelled Adrien Agreste, already primed and pressed into the picture perfect Adonis, not a hair out of place, expertly designed by a team of professionals. “I cannot believe you.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, instead launching into a monologue that she didn’t bother to listen to, rather using the time to briefly appraise the ‘look’ that the team downstairs had carefully crafted. 

Personally, Kagami preferred when he looked relaxed and chaotic, at least that was authentic, but authentic bedhead did not sell quite the same and Adrien had long since failed to impress her in anything but an objective and platonic sense. 

Handsome though he might be, even Adrien Agreste couldn’t quite turn a lesbian, especially when he spent so much time whining her ears off. 

Her phone rang on her desk and Kagami aimed a flat stare in Adrien’s direction, before glancing at her caller ID.

_Marinette_

“You know why I quit modeling?” Adrien asked, voice sugar sweet in a way that was probably a bad sign, but Kagami knew she could hand him his ass, 4 inch heels or not, so she just waited for the point to reveal itself. 

Answering and holding the phone to her ear, she hissed, “Hold on.” Turning back to Adrien she narrowed her eyes and bit back sarcastically, “Besides the fact that your father, genius though he may be, might also be the devil incarnate? 

Adrien nodded, not at all perturbed. “Yes, besides that.”

“Then no.” Her voice fell flat in the air, devoid of tone. Kagami could hear Marinette smothering a giggle on the other end of the phone, but she kept her focus on Adrien, knowing that her friend would be content to listen to her argue with someone else for a change. 

“Because-” Adrien began, perhaps even a bit more melodramatically than he needed to be- “Every shoot I did for the last year I worked here involved me being groped by someone on set-”

Kagami cut him off. “-Which I’m very sorry for but I can assure you will not be a problem today; the staff is very professional and discreet, I’ve made sure of it.” Her glare was a clear ‘are we done now?’ but Adrien had never been known to pick up on subtle signals from women in his life, so he just kept going.

“It’s the _models_ , Kagami,” Adrien groaned; he definitely didn’t whine, since he was an adult with a real job and more money than he could ever spend and obviously wouldn’t whine at his friend while she’s just doing her best to do her job. “And you never told me this was a doubles shoot!” he finished with an accusatory pout. 

Marinette went strangely silent and the tension in Kagami’s shoulders immediately heightened. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and reminded herself that if she slapped the makeup off his face it would delay them even more. “It’s not a doubles shoot and she’s not a model and she’s very nice so shut up so I can talk to her.”

“Wait, that’s her?” Adrien yelped like someone had stepped on his toes, “I didn't mean it like that!”

Kagami mouthed ‘like that’ mockingly at him and turned her full attention to the phone. “Yeah, Mar?”

“Well I was calling to apologize for being a baby, but I’ve recently decided I will not be doing this after all and I have to go right now,” Marinette growled, huffing with indignance and Kagami knew that wherever she was, her arms were crossed.

“Do not even _think_ about it, I _will_ find you and I _will_ dismantle you for parts,” Kagami snipped back primly. “He didn’t mean it like that, you know how some of those models can be, especially with the guys. He’s really very nice, I promise, he’s just cranky, but you will receive a _very_ heartfelt apology on set.” She said this while aiming a pointed glare at Adrien’s sheepish form, the man wilting even more under her gaze.

A groan loud enough to make her cringe echoed through the speaker.“Who even is he? Why is this so important?” Marinette asked, still sulky.

Kagami spun to stalk closer to her window and hiss into the speaker, “If you had been paying attention _earlier_ , you would know that this is the fourth time I've told you he’s an old fan-favourite and we’re working on a campaign to unite the old _Gabriel_ image with the new.” Technically, Adrien had been fed a slightly different story and she didn’t have time for that to derail too, so she kept her voice lowered. ”Don’t worry, even if you weren’t more beautiful than the sun rising over a mountain range, he’d be able to make you look fantastic. Just relax and we’ll be there soon.”

A long silence drew our between them, virtually pointless since Kagami was well aware she had already won.

“Ugh, you owe me,” Marinette huffed, finally giving in.

A victorious smile spread across Kagami’s face. “Mhm, wine and movie date this weekend?” She asked, turning to see if Adrien was still lurking or if he’d gotten bored and left. 

He was, unfortunately, still there, watching her a little too closely, which meant he was going to have a terrible series of opinions as soon as she hung up. 

Marinette’s reply was drowned out by the sound of glass shattering and a series of crashes. “Oh shit,” Marinette breathed through the phone. “Kagami, I gotta go.”

The call went dead before she could protest. 

Kagami squinted at the phone, but figured if the problem was significant, she’d hear about it soon enough, so she turned her attention back to Adrien. 

The man was nearly vibrating, his eyes wide and sparkling as he sputtered out questions. “Who was that? Was that your girlfriend? Is she the other model? Who is she? Is she nice? Why haven’t I met her? I thought we were friends, Kagami, but you kept this kind of tea from me?” 

Inhaling deeply, Kagami took a moment to breathe before making direct eye contact with him and snarking, “Sometimes I worry that _you’re_ my girlfriend, with how much time you spend jerking my dick, and no, she’s not a model.” 

Once again, Adrien failed to be adequately cowed into submission, not even acknowledging her taunt beyond a dramatic pout before moving on to his follow up question. “Do you _want_ her to be your girlfriend?”

“Adrien, my dear sweet friend,” She purred in a velvet tone, “that is my work wife and I love her very much, _but_ ,” Kagami’s tone dropped 30 degrees and she whipped a pillow at his face, “She prefers stupid blonds and I’m very into the butch florist that lives across the hall from me, so can we move on?” 

He squinted at her for a long moment, green eyes reduced to cat-like slits. “...Is this a set up?”

“No, Adrien, why would anyone want to date you,” She replied in perfect deadpan, suppressing the groan rising in her throat. Kagami mourned the fact that her friends were such brilliant idiots.

“You dated me.” Adrien immediately replied, somewhere between indignant and perplexed.

“And now,” Kagami raised a delicate eyebrow and made direct eye contact, “I’m a lesbian. What does that say about you?” 

Adrien spluttered for a solid thirty seconds. “That’s not very nice.”

She shrugged. “I had to do it, couldn’t resist. If it makes you feel better, you are the only man I have ever been attracted to.”

A long pause while he seemed to weigh that information.

“....It kinda makes me feel better.” Adrien huffed, crossing his arms across the broad expanse of his chest and pouting like a child. 

Just as Kagami was about to respond, screams echoed down the hall, followed by the same crashing that had come through Marinette’s phone call. They both immediately launched into action, but where Kagami peeked out the door to check their surroundings in a cautious and sensible way, Adrien was already barreling down the hall towards trouble as fast as his legs could carry him.

“Sometimes, I wonder how he’s managed to live this long,” Kagami mused sullenly, but without really meaning it. 

\---

Plagg knew that there was an akuma in the building even before the screaming started. Call it his Kwamisense or whatever, but he was never wrong. And since he was currently nesting in Adrien's backpack, tucked into a tin of Camembert wearing his own Miraculous as a belt, he wasn't feeling terribly pressed into action. If he went looking for his kitten it was liable to take twice as long to find him, better to stay in one place and properly fuel himself for the transformation. 

Of course, his luck was no better than Adrien's and only a few minutes later something connected with the bag he was nesting in and sent it flying. 

And he definitely did not scream. 

There was a brief silence before heels clicked on the floor and someone picked up the backpack. Plagg cursed internally and hunkered down in the bottom, ready to pretend to be a very cute keychain. But when the zipper pulled back, wide and familiar bluebell eyes peeked into the darkness. 

A grin spread across his tiny face, not that she could see, and Plagg rocketed out into the room. "Fancy seeing you in a shithole like this, Pigtails!"

"Plagg?" Marinette gaped at him vacantly, glancing down at the bag, then back up at him. Her jaw snapped shut with a crack and she tossed the bag away as though it burned. "Is-is Chat _here_?"

"Well if you're worried he tracked you down for a repeat performance of that stunt the other night, you can relax. He's doing some job." Plagg drawled, teasing her expertly.

"Chat Noir _works here?_ " Marinette shrieked in hushed tones, nearly hysterical, her fingers already tugging the ends of her hair.

Plagg rolled his eyes, "Clean out your fucking ears, kid. I said he is doing a job here. He doesn't work here." 

"But-"

Plagg cut her off before she could get lost in one of her classic catastrophic spirals. "He doesn't pay me enough to know anything else. Besides, we have bigger issues. There seems to be a distinct lack of red and black I'd normally expect to see with an akuma one floor up, want to talk about that?"

"Not even a little bit," Marinette snapped, scooping him out of the air and tugging off his ring in a fashion that he might consider offensive if he couldn’t literally smell the trouble brewing in the air. “This is a bad idea, right?” She asked, looking up at him with a dubious expression.

If he had eyebrows he would have cocked one to match the smirk twisting his tiny, furry face. “Never met a bad idea I didn’t like.” Plagg looped through the air to lurk near Marinette’s ear while she examined the ring, which had already transformed into a much more slender rose-gold band. “You know you _want to._ ”

“I’m totally going to regret this.” Marinette groaned, sliding the ring on her finger. “Plagg- Transform me!”

A gleeful cackle spilled from his chest as he tumbled into the ring and disappeared. 

\---

Although not exactly in the same way as Plagg, Tikki was just as aware of the presence of an akuma, and to say she was feeling stressed might have been an understatement. Marinette had left her in possession of her own Miraculous, camping out in the desk drawer they’d converted into what her holder jokingly called the “Tikki Lounge”. 

Yes, there were miniature tiki torches, and it was only _kind of_ funny. 

Really, Tikki knew better than to try and go looking for her chosen- that would immediately triple their problems- but she found herself flitting back and forth across the office anxiously. This was not the first time that she and Marinette had been separated at an inopportune time, but it was certainly something she preferred to avoid. 

Stiffening, a shiver ran through her tiny body. Somewhere nearby, Plagg had just released a wave of transformation energy on a different wavelength than he usually did. It almost felt like a new holder had taken the reins, but Chat Noir wasn’t just some idiot, despite what Ladybug might call him on occasion, and if someone else had control of Plagg, they were all much worse off than just under threat of a new akuma.

Hopefully Plagg just had indigestion again. 

Anxiously, she drifted over to peek out the window, scanning for any sign that said akuma had made its way outside, which would give Marinette a better chance of getting back to her in a timely manner. The door banged open behind her and she dove into one of the plants on the windowsill, peeking through the leaves to check the intruder's identity. 

“Kagami?” A masculine voice rang through the air, suspiciously familiar in a way that gave her a very bad feeling. “Oh shit, I think this is the wrong office.”

Adrien stepped into Tikki’s view and she heaved a heavy sigh, half from relief and half from exasperation. They’d met years earlier, thanks to an unfortunate escapade involving Marinette pathetically sick and under constant supervision from a _very_ strict and attentive Kagami. It had worked out in the end though.

Which meant that for today the good news was he was the only person besides Marinette that she could safely talk to. The bad news was that she absolutely had to talk to him before the boy’s infamous curiosity snooped himself into even bigger trouble than they were already in.

Because Adrien really shouldn’t have been there, and he especially shouldn’t have been there without Plagg.

So Tikki zipped across the room to hover directly in his face before he could look too closely at the nameplate on the desk or any of the multitude of personal items that might give away the office occupant’s identity. 

“Adrien, what are you doing here?” Tikki scolded, doing her best to look firmly disappointed as he went cross eyed trying to focus on her.

“Tikki?” He blinked up at her before sliding his eyes away and rubbing a sheepish hand across his neck. “Uuuuh, I’m looking for Plagg.” His face brightened, eyes alight with mischief as he whipped his head back to look at her. “Wait, Tikki, what are _you_ doing here?”

A nervous giggle spilled from her lips and she sent a silent curse to whatever god had given Adrien Agreste too much intelligence and not enough common sense. “I can’t tell you that.”

That was the wrong answer, or perhaps, to him, the right one. He immediately cut his eyes both left and right, almost trembling with effort to stop himself from investigating. “...Is this?”

“Legally, I can’t tell you that,” Tikki repeated, shaking a tiny paw in his face to bring his attention back to her. “But it’s not our biggest problem. Adrien- if you’re here, who is wielding Plagg?”

That was enough to shock him away from the tantalizing reality that he had every key he could need to Ladybug’s identity, and he gaped at her. “What?” 

Tikki grimaced, less than thrilled by the fact that he had even less of an idea of what was going on than she did. “Plagg is actively transformed, I can feel it. But, you’re obviously not, which I’m sure I don’t need to stress, is _very_ bad.” 

“I was doing a job here and took him off for like five minutes, I’ve taken him off for longer before, I don’t know how someone found him or why he didn’t-”

“Plagg attracts trouble like honey attracts flies, it’s not worth wondering about,” Tikki cut him off. She could still sense Plagg transformed, but whoever was using him was in tune and they were working together harmoniously, which left her with a sneaking suspicion. “Oh shit.” 

Adrien gasped, dramatically, and in that moment Tikki deeply understood Marinette’s love-hate relationship with his antics. “I didn’t know you could swear.”

Exasperation didn’t quite cover what she was feeling at that exact moment. “Just because I don’t have a potty mouth like Plagg does not mean I can’t swear.” Tikki zipped back across the room to press herself to the window just in time to see a black mass launch through the air after the garishly dressed akuma. “Oh, what have you _done?_ ”

“Is that?” Adrien nearly collided with the window as he sprinted to join her, both of them watching the figure ricochet across the rooftops. 

“Unfortunately,” Tikki replied, lamenting the fact that Marinette’s latest crisis had apparently eaten away her entire brain, because only someone with exactly zero brain cells would jump into battle wielding Plagg on a whim. 

“Oh _shit,”_ Adrien breathed, wholly enraptured by the scene unfolding in the street outside, the gravity of the situation soaring over his head.

Case in point. 

It was difficult for either of them to make out specific details from such a distance, but there was no doubt in her mind that the leather clad woman hurling herself at the akuma with reckless abandon was Marinette. Which meant that the good news was Plagg was not missing or in the hands of a stranger, but the bad news was they were now down one quintessential Ladybug. 

Tikki ducked away from the window and retrieved her earrings, before returning to Adrien’s side, only to find him still staring wide-eyed through the window, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Heaving what was definitely far from the last sigh of the day, she cleared her throat. “Okay loverboy, pull it together.” 

He turned his head towards her, his eyes tracking slower, seemingly reluctant to tear away from the scene unfolding outside. Adrien glanced at the earrings she was offering him, suddenly fidgeting with nervous energy. “You think I can...be Ladybug?” He asked.

“You might not be suited to being a permanent Ladybug, Adrien, but you’re the holder we need today, and I have confidence in you. We can handle this.” Tikki wasn’t sure if she was really trying to reassure him so much as herself, but she was certain of his competency and determination, and he brightened considerably in a way that reminded her of the much more hesitant and childish Chat Noir that she’d met years earlier.

Nodding excitedly, Adrien took the earrings, marveling for a brief second when they shimmered into pearlescent discs, before fitting them into his lobes. “Tikki, transform me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, next chapter is back to our regularly scheduled Marinette (and it's a doozy >.>) but I enjoyed this interlude and I hope y'all did too! 
> 
> As always, a huge shoutout to my beta, Papillon10, who is nursing me through my continuous mental breakdown


	5. Feral Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well that’s easy,” Plagg said, his mood improved now that his opinion had been voiced; he did a little twirl in her hands and winked, “You stop being a fucking coward.”
> 
> “It’s not that easy, jackass!” Glaring fiercely, Marinette shoved him into the inside pocket of her jacket, “We’ll talk about it later.” 
> 
> “It could be that easy-” Plagg purred from her pocket, “-if you weren’t the pussycat between the two of us.”
> 
> “Shut up!” Marinette shrieked, quietly, so as not to look completely insane to any passerby and spun around to walk in the opposite direction of Gabriel as quickly as she could without being suspicious, turning out of the alley and onto the main street.
> 
> “Marinette!” A familiar voice calling after her froze her in her tracks.
> 
> “Nightmares really do come true,” Plagg cackled in her jacket, testing her patience and comfort level already. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I had to get through finals week and I kinda drowned myself in some oneshots lately (there's another one coming in the next couple days) But Marinette is back as our unreliable narrator and making Choices like usual.
> 
> As always a big shoutout to my wonderful beta for this fic, Papillon10. I literally would not be able to do this without her T.T

Sliding the Black Cat Miraculous onto her finger in a state of emergency hadn’t seemed like a  _ good  _ option, per say, but at the time it had seemed like the best solution she had. And at first, the overwhelming rush of sheer physical power and speed that heightened in time with her adrenaline was nearly addictive. Not to mention that she’d readily admit it was much lighter on shoulders than her usual getup. 

Her leather suit was simpler than Chat’s, lighter, and more streamlined. Circling her neck was a slender choker with a dainty bell, and although she wasn’t sure she was fond of that specific detail, the overall effect did not disappoint. Her energy blended with Plagg’s better than she had originally expected.

It had momentarily shocked her when she passed a window and caught a glimpse of her eyes- wide and inhuman, emerald pools severed by tiny slits, narrowed in anticipation of the fight. Marinette had allowed herself a moment to gape at her reflection and wonder if Chat’s eyes were a different colour beneath the Black Cat’s transformation, before screaming startled her from her thoughts and sent her barrelling headfirst into the fray.

Now, with her partner hovering just behind her and his breath puffing across the back of her neck as she shielded them both with the baton, Marinette had long since come to regret her decision. 

Not to mention that each time she’d lost her balance, taken a hit, or missed a strike, it had been because her eyes caught on Chat- or rather, Mr. Bug, as he’d rather excitedly declared. And she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away.

His suit did him the same favours it did for her, which is to say too many and exactly none at the same time. It highlighted every hard plane and muscle of his body in a way that the black leather did not, perpetually drawing her eye. 

(Part of her suspected it had more to do with the lingering effects of having kissed him.)

“We should loop back and regroup,” Mr. Bug said, his voice low in her ears, in a husky sort of way that was both too similar and wildly different from his usual purr. 

She’d turned her head to snap at him, only to have the barbs die on her tongue as their eyes met.  His were a mere fraction of a shade lighter than she was used to- impossibly raw and human- and suddenly her partner felt so much more real. Suddenly he wasn’t the hero, her loyal partner, indestructible and larger than life, desperately desired but lurking just outside of what she could have.

(Lurking outside of what she deserved.) 

Suddenly, he was human and staring at her with eyes summer green like rolling fields, less than a foot away from her. He’d kissed her back, after all, so how far out of reach could he really be? It took all her self control not to drop her defenses and tumble into his arms to confess something better left silent.

(Like a complete  _ fool. _ )

Her jaw snapped shut with an audible crack and she winced. Normally she would settle back into cool logic and professionalism, but that was his job today, so she assumed an air of easy going charm she hadn’t realized she possessed, and trilled, “Scared, Buggaboy?”

“With you to protect me, Mi’lady Noire? Not even a little bit.” He caught her eye and winked, a fresh swarm of butterflies awakening in her stomach. 

Immediately catching her toe on an uneven brick and stumbling, she barely managed to catch herself in time to deflect the akuma’s incoming strike seconds before it connected with her skull. “Well, a lady always finishes a fight, but I think Chatonne Noire has a better ring to it.” She’d said it more to be contrary than anything else, but it was too late to take it back now. “I’m not the one in charge though, you are, so what’s the plan?”

“Me?” He came to a complete stop, jabbing a finger into his own chest questioningly. “Minou, you know me better than that, I’m not the dominant type at all.” Mr. Bug pressed a hand to his forehead and feigned a dramatic swoon. 

The familiarity of his antics soothed her enough to quip back, “Careful, say that too loud and #Mr.BugGetsPegged will be trending by tonight.”

It also helped that she hadn’t made the mistake of meeting his eyes, or looking at him for longer than a quarter of a second. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve trended this week,” Mr. Bug grumbled under his breath, and if it weren’t for her wildly enhanced hearing, she might have missed it.

But she didn’t, and a smirk curled her lips as she reveled in the chance to be the teaser rather than the teased for once. “Speaking of which, we definitely need to have a chat about  _ that  _ at some point.” Her tone was light, but they both knew it was a serious topic that would need to be dealt with eventually, although only she knew exactly how complicated the problem was. 

Mr. Bug was quick to divert her attention, holding up an imaginary tablet and pretending to scroll through it. “A chat, you say? My deepest apologies, Miss Kitty, but you’ll have to check with my assistant for my next schedule opening...maybe six weeks from now?”

An ear piercing shriek ripped them both back to the present. In indulging his shenanigans, she’d forgotten to pay attention to the akuma long enough for it to lunge towards them. Instinctively, she threw herself in between the akuma and Mr. Bug, consumed by an almost feral impulse to protect. 

In that moment, she understood her partner in a new way. 

A mere twenty minutes in his shoes and she was a wreck, poorly balanced on a razor wire and teetering between too easy going and more animal than anything else, unable to think in more than just actions. Her only purpose, it seemed, was him; whatever he needed, she would provide. He was the most powerful player on the field and the most vulnerable at the same time.

Worst of all, he looked it. In the years that she had known him, she’d seen him at his best and at his worst, and he had never seemed so fragile as he did now.

He’d never looked quite so human.

(If the eyes were windows to the soul, she could see every part of him.)

(And she desperately wanted to know more.)

\--

Her partner had caught the corrupted butterfly with an almost childlike glee, a wide grin stretching his face as he purified it. Something about the scene twisted her gut, her stomach coiling with anxiety as she realized that normally this would be about the time that they would fist bump and, if they weren’t in a rush, talk for a bit.

But she wasn’t emotionally prepared for even casual smalltalk with him. 

So in a move that was exceptionally cowardly, even with her recent track record, Marinette caught Mr. Bug’s attention and gave him a stiff wave, before spinning on her heel and taking off down the nearest alley until she was well out of sight. 

She slumped against a brick wall as she released her transformation, catching Plagg in her hands when he spiraled out of the ring on her finger. “Before you ask, I don’t have any cheese.” 

Plagg made direct eye contact with her, distinctly lacking the dramatics she’d expected. “You’ve sure been doing a lot of running lately.”

Jerking her head back so fast it slammed into the wall behind her and left stars exploding in her vision, Marinette made a mental note to appreciate her own kwami’s tact more in the future. “What would you know, Plagg?” She groaned, rubbing at the bump quickly forming on the back of her skull.

“More than you think,” he spat back. The phrase was loaded in a way that felt intentional and set her on edge when Plagg continued, “I’m still with him after you’re gone.”

The blow pierced through her instantly, cracking her heart in two as waves of guilt rose to swallow her from within. Marinette almost wished he’d just cataclysmed her in the chest and saved them both the trouble. “I already know I fucked up, Plagg.” Her voice strained over the words. “It won’t happen again.”

“That might be worse, Marinette. For both of you,” his nasal voice softened, measured and serious like she’d never seen him before. “It’s time to stop running.” 

She didn’t even have the energy to go on the defensive or attempt to lie. “I can’t remember how to stay.” 

Marinette couldn’t deny Plagg’s point. She’d left her partner behind with barely more than a brief acknowledgment as she’d fled, all because she couldn’t pull herself together enough to talk to him like they hadn’t kissed the night before.

No, instead she’d run away from him not just as Marinette, terrified of what their interaction had meant, but also as his partner, because she was too spineless to even face him while she was keeping that secret.

(And her carelessness with Chat’s feelings could kill them both.)

“Well that’s easy,” Plagg said, his mood improved now that his opinion had been voiced; he did a little twirl in her hands and winked, “You stop being a fucking coward.”

“It’s not that easy, jackass!” Glaring fiercely, Marinette shoved him into the inside pocket of her jacket, “We’ll talk about it later.” 

“It  _ could  _ be that easy-” Plagg purred from her pocket, “-if you weren’t the pussycat between the two of us.”

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Marinette shrieked, quietly, so as not to look completely insane to any passerby and spun around to walk in the opposite direction of  _ Gabriel _ as quickly as she could without being suspicious, turning out of the alley and onto the main street.

“Marinette!” A familiar voice calling after her froze her in her tracks.

“Nightmares really do come true,” Plagg cackled in her jacket, testing her patience and comfort level already. 

Her spine snapped straight as she forced a clueless expression onto her face and slowly turned around, immediately confronted with the earth shattering gaze she’d been fleeing from in the first place. She did her best to pretend not to recognize him.

(Much less that she felt like she could suddenly see more of him than she ever had- and it terrified her.)

“Uuuh, me?” Marinette squeaked, incredibly intelligently. Her earlier charm and courage had all but evaporated, and, much too late, she wondered if perhaps it was all just Plagg’s influence to begin with. 

Everything about her partner seemed just a little bit more put together than usual, his chaos subdued into an order that brought a steady confidence to his step. Chat’s crooked smile was nowhere to be found, instead Mr. Bug’s face was creased with an open grin, radiating an honest excitement at the sight of her, but lacking its usual mischief.

That did nothing to soothe her fears. Somehow things felt more serious, more real, when he wasn’t so busy being larger than life. 

“You really don’t recognize me?” He very nearly pouted, and the teasing lilt was so familiar that the tension in her shoulders lightened, although she knew he was likely setting up for a joke that used her as the punchline.

Marinette squinted up at him, doing her best to look between his eyes to give the impression of eye contact, without actually meeting his gaze and tumbling back into the rabbit hole again. 

"Damn Red, you’re hurting my feelings!” The mischief in his eyes made it difficult to feel guilty, especially when he kept going, “Here I thought I was pretty memorable- or do you make a habit of having passionate makeout sessions with strangers in the middle of the night?” 

His smile was downright wicked by the time he finished, and even though she knew for a fact that he was baiting her, she walked right into it. 

“First of all,  _ Chat Noir, _ ” Marinette hissed, storming over to shove her face in his, all while ignoring the alarm bells in her head screaming that this proximity is what got her into trouble in the first place.

She pretended not to notice the smug glee written across his face, no doubt pleased that she’d admitted she knew who he was. “I’m not sure what kind of woman you think I am, but I do not make a habit of making out with anyone, passionately or otherwise. Not to mention that it was hardly the middle of the night-”

“-and you could never be a str-” her voice broke, catching in her throat too late not to give away her meaning. Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to turn and sprint in the opposite direction out of instinct. 

But she didn’t. 

She held his gaze, feeling as though she’d ripped open her own chest, vulnerable and exposed to him and anyone else witnessing her humiliation. Because she realized, if anyone deserved more from her, it was him. His eyes were wide with shock, mirroring her own expression, and the harsh impact of the raw humanity within them nearly sent her to her knees with that conviction.

So Marinette squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “You’re not a stranger,” she repeated, because it was too late to take that back and she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyway. 

In a single blink, he crossed the distance between them. Before she could stumble back, one of his hands pulled her close and the other cupped her jaw, tilting her head up to press his lips to hers. 

When she had kissed him, it had been desperate, bruising, and frantic, charged with too much all at once. 

This kiss burned, long and slow, soft friction melting her beneath his fingers, beneath his lips, like something she’d rarely even dared to fantasize about. When he finally broke away, hovering with inches between them as air rushed into lungs she hadn’t realized were starved, his eyes were still closed and every heated breath fanning across her skin made her itch.

Marinette had never been good with time, but that moment seemed to stretch for years, lost in the dizzying lack of oxygen and heady swarm of endorphins. Until eventually, her partner’s eyes slid open and met hers, dark pupils blown wide with just the barest strip of green lining them. 

(Still excruciatingly human.)

A perfect pearly grin split his face, soft and beaming with something that made her feel guilty for reasons she couldn’t quite voice, and she stood frozen under his gaze like a rabbit in the sights of a wolf. 

“I, uh, have to go.” His voice, rough and reverent, was like taking a shot of whiskey, spicy heat flooding her chest and tingling into her extremities until her entire body trembled. He kissed her again, a light brush of pressure against her lips before he moved away and a cold rush of air filled the burning gap he left behind. “I’ll see you later.” 

“You-You’ll what?” Marinette stuttered, her brain still short circuiting between every thought. 

The only answer he gave was a sunny smile as he yoyo’d away, and she was left staring stupidly at the space he’d previously occupied. 

And then her phone rang. 

Starting, she dug around in her pocket until she unearthed the device and winced.

_ Kagami _

“Okay, before you yell at me for being late, I have a really good explanation,” Marinette jumped to defend herself before even greeting her friend, expecting to be scolded like a tardy middle schooler. 

“Is it that you were making out with yet another superhero in the middle of a public street?” Kagami asked in complete monotone.

Marinette scanned her surroundings for any sign of her lurking nearby, to no avail. “...Are you watching me?”

A quiet laugh was smothered into a snort. “Me and a couple thousand other people actually. You’re already trending, congratulations.”

“I’m-” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a few deep breaths, steeling herself. “Fuck, Kagami, tell me that there’s not video footage of that online already.” She wondered offhand if this constituted enough of an emergency for her to justify using the Rabbit Miraculous without Tikki reading her the riot act. 

“Oof, I’d love to do that, but I don’t believe in living in denial.” Kagami made a series of noises that were more amused than sympathetic, “The good news is, the livestream ended when he left and there’s not a great shot of your face. You might want to get out of there before any reporters show up though.” 

“I’m going home to cry now,” Marinette snapped into the speaker. “Contact me only if you have alcohol.” She ended the call before Kagami could respond. 

“It’s okay,” Plagg piped up, “You can say I was right about the running away thing.”

She didn’t need to see him to know how smug his stupid, tiny face looked. “Shut up, Plagg, thanks to your advice thousands of people have seen me making out with Chat Noir and if I get slaughtered in the streets by a bloodthirsty fangirl, it will be your fault.” 

His cackling wasn’t exceptionally remorseful. 

(But she couldn’t find it in herself to be regretful either, so what more could she say?)

\--

Marinette slammed the front door behind her with a little more force than strictly necessary and waved Plagg towards her fridge- and emergency Camembert stash. Then, she collapsed face down on her couch and groaned into the fabric. 

“What are you bitching around for?” Plagg hollered, the words garbled around a mouth full of cheese. “You literally just made out with the love of your life, every other woman on this fucking planet would be over the moon.” 

Tossing a pillow in his direction without actually looking to see where he was, Marinette hauled herself up and headed for her room. "Plagg, please, just, like, five minutes of silence."

"Y'know, this reminds me of the old days when my kitten spent hours waxing poetic about you.” Plagg hummed cheerfully, following her at a sedate pace and thoroughly unaffected by the venomous glare she was aiming in his direction. “Now he spends most of his time waxing poetic about, well, you, but you know what I mean. Where was I going with this?"

Marinette seethed, holding up her fingers only a few inches apart. "I'm this close to stuffing you in a hat box.”

Plagg studied her in the same way that Chat did whenever she made a threat- as if he were measuring how serious she was. Although his demeanor didn’t change, he drifted a bit further from her reach. "Any _ way _ , my point is, I don't believe in favors-”

She snorted.

“-but my silence can be bought." Plagg concluded triumphantly, pressing a paw to his chin and batting his massive green eyes at her in a begging look that was more effective than she’d like to admit. “What do you say, Marinette?”

Marinette was many things, and while she may have been a fool, she was not naive enough to miss the fact that he used her actual name. That detail might as well have been a neon warning sign plastered to his face. "...What do you want?"

His face twisted into a mask of smug mischief, and Marinette was reminded again of her partner, leaving her with the lingering question of how much of his chaotic energy was really his own and how much was fueled by Plagg. 

As she’d recently learned, Plagg’s influence was more potent than anticipated. 

"See, way back when, I made this bet of sorts with the kid, and I stand by it to this day but never got a chance to actually deliver…" His nasal voice dropped, smoothing into a far more persuasive purr as he danced around his request. 

Narrowing her eyes and fixing him with another glare, Marinette huffed. “What is it.”

Plagg seemed to take that as a victory of sorts and dove closer to her, spitting words so quickly she had a hard time processing them. "Okay, hear me out, he used to whine all the time about how he wanted to kiss you and there are only so many times my ears can bleed from hearing shitty poetry singing your praises so to shut him up I told him that  _ I _ wouldn’t have any trouble getting a kiss from Ladybug- one, because I have the balls to actually ask, and two, because I'm anyone but him. Which was mostly a joke but he didn't speak to me for 7 hours which is still his longest standing record." 

It took her a solid thirty seconds after he finally stopped rambling before what he had said fully processed. 

“No.” Marinette said, spinning on her heel and tossing herself onto her bed. 

Whining, Plagg swooped after her. “I know you have a sense of humor somewhere in there! I need this.”

“That's not a joke, Plagg! It’s mean and since you literally gave me a lecture about abusing Chat’s feelings, oh-” she very obviously checked her watch, “-less than two hours ago, I’m not feeling inclined to take your side in this competition that the two of you have going.” Marinette rocketed back upright, another thought occurring to her, “Besides, I’ve already kissed him so hasn’t he already won? _. _ ”

“ _ Marinette  _ kissed him, sure, but not Ladybug, so I can still win this,” Plagg corrected with a cheeky wink. “I forgot to mention earlier when I was bitching at you but nice going growing a fucking pair. Only took you a billion years.” 

She aimed a half-hearted glower at him, “You’re not doing a great job of winning me over.” 

“C’mon Pigtails, he’ll die,” Plagg wheedled, dipping back down to pout directly in her face. 

“First of all, I haven’t worn pigtails in YEARS,” Marinette snapped, nudging his nose gently with her index finger, “And second, I’m not blowing my identity just so you can stick it to Chat, tempting though that may be.”

The cat kwami was as stubborn as his holder and thus not deterred in the slightest. “Just put on some big glasses! He’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed- plenty of brains, sure, but no common sense, as we both know. Besides, you probably don’t even know each other!” Every word oozed confidence with such intensity that it nearly convinced her.

Nearly.

Marinette squinted at him. “I already know that isn't true, he told me himself that he knows me."

"Semantics." Plagg shrugged, wholly unaffected by the holes in his own argument. 

They stared each other down, seconds ticking by in complete silence. She blinked first, groaning pathetically and collapsing back into her pillows again. "I thought you couldn't be filmed or photographed in the first place.”

"Tech _ nically _ , if we want to, we can." 

Marinette considered that concept. "Does Chat know about that?"

Plagg eyed her speculatively, “He’s never asked, so I’ve never told him. Probably for the best too cause he’d start carrying my photo in his wallet like a sap or something. Blegh.”

His words might have been a little harsh -although accurate- but Marinette knew for a fact that he didn’t really mean it. Not to mention that the tiny megalomaniac would probably bask in an entire portrait hall dedicated to himself if given the opportunity. So she tipped her head back and smirked up at him. “Fine, but we’re doing it my way.”

“You won’t regret it, Spots!” Plagg cheered, spinning around the room and sounding so self satisfied that she nearly reversed her position a second time. But she was already going to get an earful from Tikki anyway, so there wasn’t much left to deter her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this one! With any luck there won't be such a long gap before the next chapter and then only one more! (maybe two if they get unwieldy >.>) 
> 
> When I was first planning out this fic, I included the kwamiswap solely because I wanted Plagg and Marinette shenanigans. I really enjoy them as a duo and I personally believe that their combined chaotic power is truly unparalleled and it IS plot relevant, I promise.


End file.
